


The Jemma Handbook

by chinesebakery



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: A+ communication skills, Bad Sex, Comedy, F/M, Fluff and Crack, sassy daisy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 12:57:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6285367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinesebakery/pseuds/chinesebakery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her and Fitz's first time turns out less than satisfying, Jemma has a brief moment of despair ‒and then she devises her plan of action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Jemma Handbook

**Author's Note:**

> All the thanks to agentcalliope for beta-reading once more.

Jemma didn't understand. After the intense, emotional kisses they'd shared in the lab when they were researching the portal, she'd never once thought their first kisses as a real, actual couple might be… less than stellar.

Fitz's tongue was searching the back of her mouth in a rather unpleasant fashion. No matter how much she tried to gently tone it down, he kept pushing further. Was it biologically possible to trigger a gag reflex this way? She wondered. When he finally stopped besieging her glottis, he started sucking on her lower lip in a way that might have been pleasurable with a little ‒or a lot‒ less pressure. Was he trying to give her a mouth hickey?

Anxious to move on to more pleasant activities, she sped up their disrobing and smiled to herself when Fitz bent down to tongue her breasts. You could hardly go wrong with that, right? Or that's what she thought, until the motorboating started.

A sense of dread seized her as Fitz kissed his way down her stomach and to her nether regions.

"Aah," she yelped when his teeth gripped the skin of her inner thighs. "Mmh, careful, okay? This is kind of a sensitive area."

"Oh, right, sorry," he muttered, before setting about lapping indiscriminately the general area of her crotch. The good point was, it wasn't painful anymore. It didn't do much for her, though. Actually, it was kind of gross.

"Mmh, Fitz?" She said softly, pulling on his arm. "You can stop, now."

"But you haven't‒ Have you?"

"That's okay," she was quick to assure him. "Come here. I want to be with you."

***

"Morning," Daisy greeted cheerfully as she entered the common kitchen. It was early morning still, and Jemma had been standing there alone a while, staring at her cooling tea.

Jemma grunted, her eyes fixed on the cup she was mercilessly stirring. If she noticed Daisy's raised eyebrow, she failed to react to it.   
  
Undeterred, Daisy set a large jug of coffee to brew, before circling around her friend to come and lean on the counter next to her, invading her space.

"What's wrong with you, Grumpy? Slept on the wrong side of the bed?"

Jemma sighed, opened her mouth, then thought better of it and resumed staring at her tea. She'd left the bag in too long and now it was cold  _ and _ undrinkable. Why did she always have to be Murphy's Law's preferred victim?

"Okay, spill," Daisy exclaimed impatiently. "What's going on with you?"

Jemma looked around, making sure no one was within earshot range.

"Fitz and I‒" she stopped to bite her lip. "Well, last night, we… consummated our relationship," she finished in a whisper.

"You guys did the do!? Huzza!" Daisy exclaimed, punching the air. "Finally! I knew you crazy kids would sort it out eventually. So, what's the problem?"

"Well, it was‒ It wasn't‒"

"Satisfactory?" Daisy supplied, scrunching her nose.

"...Right." Jemma huffed a long, sad sigh.

"Mmh, I see," Daisy nodded pensively. Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Oh. My. God. Does Fitz have a…" Daisy wiggled her little finger, "...microchip?”

"What? No!" Jemma exclaimed, horrified. "There’s nothing wrong with his... chip. The problem is‒ Well, it's everything else, really."

"Ah! I  _ knew  _ he was a v‒ possibly, inexperienced," Daisy sobered up as she noticed Jemma's face falling further.

"What am I gonna do?" Jemma whined in despair. "Do we have to go back to being friends, now? Oh, this is gonna be so awkward."

Daisy stared at her friend in incredulous silence for several moments before she spoke again.

"Okay, I have an idea," Daisy started conspiratorially. "Brace yourself, though, cause it's  _ pretty  _ edgy."

"What is it?" Jemma asked urgently.

"TALK TO HIM, GENIUS! COMMUNICATE! I swear you two are incurable dum-dums."

"I  _ can't _ ," Jemma groaned. "We're British, okay? We don't talk about these things. We're not wired that way."

"Your combined IQ is higher than Coulson's blood pressure, I'm pretty sure you can figure out a way to use your words in a manner that would be mutually beneficial," Daisy huffed, rolling her eyes.

"Well I don't think‒ Unless‒" Jemma trailed off as a new plan of action developed inside her head.

"Yeees?" Daisy pressed, a smile growing on her lips.

"Mmh, I've got to go," Jemma muttered distractedly, already on her way out.

"You're welcome, dum dum," Daisy called after her. "Don’t forget to give me the deets later!"

***

When Fitz went back to his room shortly after noon, he was in a very dark mood that not even the prospect of eating lunch ‒or rather, hiding in his room with a sandwich‒ could alleviate. 

He'd spent the entire morning in the garage with Mack, piteously avoiding Jemma.   


Fitz wasn't completely oblivious. He was well aware that Jemma was disappointed last night and he was completely at a loss for what to do about it. Should he apologize? Pretend none of it ever happened? What if he'd turned her off permanently? He would never forgive himself.

He was about to let himself fall on his bed face first like a disgruntled teenager when he noticed a file sitting on the bedspread, with a large, red ‘Confidential’ stamp on the cover.

Intrigued, he started flipping through the file, only to let out a loud gasp when he took note of the content. The blood drained from his face so fast he was suddenly light-headed.

It was… Jemma’s… instruction manual?

A very comprehensive, painstakingly detailed instruction manual. It was illustrated ‒rather poorly, to his chagrin, Jemma had never been much of a cartoonist‒ and the most important notions were bolded and underlined.

Fitz sat heavily on his bed where, face flushed and short of breath, he proceeded to read, then to memorize, the  _ Jemma Handbook  _ from cover to cover.

***

Jemma was sitting on her bed, reading ‒waiting‒ when Fitz barged in, the file bunched in his hand. 

He closed the door behind him and stopped short in front of her. The color was a little high on his cheeks, she noted. Was he as turned on from reading it as she was from imagining and writing down everything she wanted to do with him? 

She'd spent over an hour detailing everything she desired, enjoyed or wished to try with him and somewhere along the line, she'd realized the previous night didn't matter in the least. It was just a misfiring. They'd get better at this together, like they did with everything else.

"Are you insane, leaving that in plain sight?" Fitz whispered. "What if someone had found it?"

"I thought it was worth the risk," she countered, arms crossed over her chest, ready to stand her ground.

"Well," he mimicked her posture. "Couldn't you send an email or something?"

"I thought about it," she admitted, "but I don't want Communications ‒or the NSA, even‒ to know that much about my, mmh, erogenous zones?"

"Good thinking," he admitted with a nod. He hated the ideas of others getting their hand on the  _ Manual _ . "Why didn't you just… tell me?" He asked before sitting on the bed next to her close enough that their thighs touched from the hip to the knee.

"I didn't know how," she admitted, embarrassed. "And I was too afraid of hurting your feelings."

"You never had trouble telling me I was doing something wrong before," he smiled.

"This is different though. This is‒ more important that science."

"More important that science," he repeated bemusedly. "Wow."

"So, did you read it?" She inquired, her expression both nervous and hopeful.

"Did I read it?" He asked in disbelief. "Hum, yeah. I read it, alright. Learned it by heart, actually."

"Did you now," she grinned. "Found anything interesting?"

"Well, the topic's a little tedious, I suppose," he smirked when she slapped his arm, "but I must say, I found your writing rather inspiring. Stimulating, even."

"Well, so long as you're  _ inspired _ ," she grinned, "there's something on page 4 I would  _ very _ much like to try."

"We don't have a lot of time," he reminded her. "Someone's bound to notice neither of us made it back to our work post."

"Well, if you read carefully enough," she said, standing to remove her clothes, "that shouldn't be a problem."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm... sorry?


End file.
